


Let Me Help You

by Rawrbin



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Assisted Masturbation, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Blow Jobs, Bubble Bath, Caretaking, Embarrassment, Feeding, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Oral Sex, Poorly Timed Erections, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Undressing, bathing together, teeth brushing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23154811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawrbin/pseuds/Rawrbin
Summary: Dick grabbed a pair of Damian's yoga pants and held them open in front of the still fuming boy to step into. Damian opened his mouth looking like he was going to argue, before thinking better of it and snapping his mouth shut while hurriedly stepping into the open leg holes. Dick quickly slid them up over his legs and the black briefs covering his hips (deciding not to ask whether those needed changing as well and risk embarrassing the kid further. That was a battle for another day). He noticed Damian's breath hitch when Dick's fingers smoothed over his stomach as he settled the waistband into place and wondered if the Robin was sporting any internal injuries as well. He would have to hack into Robin's medical files after the boy went to sleep to get a full idea of what he was actually working with here.----Dick Grayson is tasked with caring for a broken-armed and very prideful Damian Wayne. He's got his work cut out for him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne
Comments: 74
Kudos: 335





	1. Chapter 1

"You're not coming!" 

Dick winced as the enraged screams hit his ears the second he dismounted his cycle and removed his helmet in the batcave. When Dick had been summoned suddenly by an ambiguous call from Bruce an hour before, he hadn't expected to show up in the middle of a fight. Though on the other hand by now he should have expected it. Even if his two youngest brothers had both mellowed out a bit recently, it still didn't take _that_ much to get them at each other's throats. 

"Tt. I _will_ accompany you on patrol tonight. I am fine." Damian scoffed as Dick approached the rest of his family and the source of his probable oncoming headache. Dick could sense Damian's irritated glare even through the Robin mask. 

"No you're not," Tim snapped back, reaching forward in an attempt to flick Damian's forehead which the boy swiftly stepped back to avoid. Normally Damian would have probably reached up to maim any part of Red Robin that dared to get in arms reach of touching him, but suddenly Dick realized the cause of the current debate. 

He hadn't noticed at first because he was concealing it behind his draping cape, but Robin wasn't donning his usual bright green gloves or long sleeves. Instead, Damian's right arm was not only in a cast, but held tightly up against his body by a sling as well. A quick scan over the boy's body for any other injuries found him a brace on the left wrist extending to his hand where most of his fingers were held straight by another cast. Robin was dealing with a lot of broken bones - freshly broken, since he had been injury free when Dick had seen him only a few days before. 

"Don't touch me Drake!" Damian growled, offended. 

"Both your arms are broken. How are you even supposed to hold your sword or throw a Batarang? You're in no condition to fight. I don't know how you even got into that thing," Tim gestured to his Robin costume with an incredulous look on his face, "without injuring yourself further. You couldn't even get out of your pajamas this morning."

"Tt. Both my arms are not broken. This is only a few fingers. While it may be crippling for you, Drake," he spat, "for me it is but a small injury. And I am strong enough to fight any of the pathetic scum in this city, even without my arms." Damian spoke with an air of confidence, but Dick could tell he was actually being more defensive than usual. He had calmed down a bit as he'd gotten older and the insults towards Tim had decreased as well. But currently, as stubborn as he was even he probably realized deep down that going out in his current condition was crazy, and Tim made the perfect punching bag to get out his frustration about that fact. 

"Enough." Thankfully Batman stepped forward to take control of the situation before Dick had to listen to any more insults and fake bravado. "Damian. I already told you you're off patrol until your injuries fully heal. That is my decision and you need to respect it." 

"That could take weeks!" Damian loudly injected, and shot an angry glare towards Tim when he scoffed out a "more like months". "I'm completely fine, I can - "

"You need to heal." Despite being used to it, Batman's glare and sharp command was still enough to still Damian temporarily, "and that is final. I don't want to hear another word. Dick will help you get changed into your pajamas and see that you stay on bedrest for the rest of the night." 

"Wait..." Dick took a minute to absorb the Batman's words which he could _not_ have heard correctly. "Are you telling me you called me all the way out here _for babysitting duty_?" 

He immediately regretted his choice of words as a loud indignant screech reached his ears, followed by a tirade about how "I am not a baby nor am I in need of any _sitting_!" 

It was his fault for setting the injured boy off, but the way he saw it this whole situation was all Bruce's fault, so he just leveled an unimpressed glare his way and waited for him to take control again. 

"Dick, please." Bruce ignored Damian's rants and addressed him. And he must be at the end of his rope because he's _asking_ and he sounds desperate. "Alfred is sick and unlike _someone_ he is actually adhering to his bedrest. I need you to help hold things down here." 

Dick felt a bout of worry come over him. Alfred must be really sick if he was actually staying bedridden. He was worse than all the rest of them combined when it came to taking time off. He made a mental note to go up and check on the man after taking care of Damian. Which of course he is going to do because when could he ever say no to Bruce. 

"Fine. Don't worry, I'll take care of things here. Would have been nice to have some prior notice though so I didn't waste time getting all dolled up for nothing," he gestured down to his Nightwing suit. 

"I have some case files I'd like you to take a look at as well." 

Dick sighed internally. Only Bruce would think a costume necessary to do behind the scenes detective work. 

"Right. Got it. Anything else I can do for you?" He asked, not entirely unsarcastically. 

"That will be all. Red Robin, let's go," and with an (overly dramatic) swish of his cape that signaled the end of the conversation he turned and headed towards the batmobile, Tim trotting dutifully behind him. 

"I am perfectly capable of going on patrol, Grayson." Now that Bruce and Tim left Dick was going to be the one on the receiving end of Damian's displeasure. The boy glared at him as if that alone would be enough to convince him and they'd speed off on his bike to go fight crime together. 

Dick sighed. He understood Damian's plight. Dick himself was no stranger to going on patrol with a broken bone. He hated the feeling of being cooped up and useless more than he hated the discomfort of going out with injuries. But even he had to admit that Damian's injuries were severe enough and hindering enough to warrant a long bedrest. The broken arm alone would be enough but his left hand too… it would be nearly impossible for him to use any of his weapons effectively. And without superpowers Dick hated to admit how much they all relied on Bruce's tools. He tried pointing out this logical discrepancy, but Damian merely scowled and said "My legs still work fine." 

Of course they did. Dick rolled his eyes. 

Damian simply scoffed in response, suddenly lunging forward and with a spring landing perfectly balanced on his left leg, his right kicked out stopping mere millimeters from Dick's nose. Impressive, but not enough to convince Dick that he should be out patrolling the streets right now. He arched an eyebrow and reiterated, "You're staying in tonight. Bats orders." 

"Tt. This is most unfair," Damian glared at him as if Dick were the one who was responsible for his broken bones. 

"Yeah, sucks doesn't it?" Nightwing flashed a comforting smile down at his former Robin. "How about you help me take a look at those case files before you go to bed." 

"Tt." 

That was Damian Wayne for "okay", and the two of them headed off for a night-in of detective work. 

* * *

Two hours later and they had gone through all the files front to back. Dick had tried not to help Damian too much, the younger boy getting indignant every time Dick reached over to help him turn a page, but it was hard not to intervene when he saw the boy painstakingly trying to flip through the files using just his left pinky finger. 

In the end there hadn't been much to find. Dick had a sneaking suspicion Bruce had left the case files more as something for Damian to do to feel rebellious after being denied going out on patrol than he did because he actually needed Dick's help on them. 

"Let's call it a night," Dick stood and slowly stretched. He had been checking the comms occasionally but it seemed to be a semi quiet night in Gotham, so he wasn't worried about rushing out to help anyone after putting Damian to sleep. 

Damian followed him silently to the cave's locker room, and Dick began peeling himself out of his Nightwing suit (actually easier than usual since he hadn't worked up a sweat, that thing could stick) and pulling on a set of comfy sweats and a t-shirt. 

Turning around he was surprised to see Robin still standing there instead of a pajama-clad Damian Wayne. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

"You're not still thinking about trying to go out on patrol tonight are you?" 

Damian was looking away, not meeting his gaze. 

"I… cannot remove it on my own." He finally admitted, and then turned to glare at Dick as if daring him to tease him. 

Now that he saw him straight on Dick could see a few of the clasps on his tunic were undone. He hadn't been able to get any farther than that in the time it has taken Dick to change completely. Honestly it was amazing he could do that much by himself given his limited mobility. Dick wondered how he had managed to get the thing on in the first place - it must have taken a large mix of patience, stubbornness, and willpower that the boy couldn't summon anymore with solely the motivation of going to bed. 

Dick felt a large pang of sympathy for his former Robin. It was already obvious that this was not going to be easy for him. Sure, he'd been injured and bedridden many times before, it came with the territory, but it'd never been like this. For someone as prideful and independent as Damian this was going to be extremely difficult to get through. Dick understood why Bruce had called him now. Damian was not comfortable showing vulnerability to anyone, but out of anyone in the family he was most comfortable showing it to Dick. There's definitely no way he'd accept any kind of help from Tim, and showing what he viewed as _weakness_ in front of his father who he is so desperate to impress was also not going to happen. 

So Dick just smiles at the boy, trying to show him that it's okay as he moved forward to help him undress. 

The first thing he does is remove the domino mask covering his eyes, but the young Robin avoids his gaze as he pulls it away. 

The next thing to go is the heavy cape that he had tried to hide the injury behind before. The utility belt followed and Dick hung them in their proper places while ordering Damian to sit. 

He got to work unlacing and pulling off the boys boots next (and although they were not laced nearly securely enough to meet Bruce's standards, it was still amazing that he'd somehow managed to make a bow with only his pinky), and then slipped off his remaining armor. 

Dick put the gear back in the locker and felt another dose of sadness when he turned to find Damian still wasn't meeting his eyes. This situation was definitely going to be harder on the boy emotionally than it was physically. He could tell that the idea of needing _help_ , especially for such basic tasks, was mortifying for the boy. Then again, learning to rely on others more might not be such a bad lesson for him. 

"Alright, stand up, pants next," Dick instructed, trying to keep his voice light, but in an instant Robin's face became as red as his signature shirt and a look that was a mixture of mortification and defensive anger took over his face as he barked out an "I can do it myself!" 

Dick gave him the courtesy of turning away and pretending to straighten up the gear in his locker while Damian hooked his pinky in the waistband of the pants and did an undignified wiggle to slide them down past his hips before turning to violently kicking them off the rest of the way and flinging them off his foot and across the room. 

Dick sighed as he chased after the flying garment. It was better to let Damian take out his frustration on a pair of pants than other (more alive) targets, so he opted not to make any comment about it. He folded them carefully, setting them in the locker with the other gear, then grabbed a pair of Damian's yoga pants and held them open in front of the still fuming boy to step into. Damian opened his mouth looking like he was going to argue before thinking better of it and snapping his mouth shut while hurriedly stepping into the open leg holes. Dick quickly slid them up over his legs and the black briefs covering his hips (deciding not to ask whether those needed changing as well and risk embarrassing the kid further. That was a battle for another day). He noticed Damian's breath hitch when Dick's fingers smoothed over his stomach as he settled the waistband into place and wondered if the Robin was sporting any internal injuries as well. He would have to hack into Robin's medical files after the boy went to sleep to get a full idea of what he was actually working with here. 

Finally there was only one thing left, and unfortunately this was going to be the most challenging. Dick finished undoing the tunic's clasps that Damian had given up on while thinking of a strategy. The left arm shouldn't be too hard to remove, but he was going to have to be careful with the right, and they'd have to remove the sling before anything. Dick still didn't know the full extent of his injuries either. 

"How are you feeling now? Does it hurt?" Not that Dick expected Damian would admit it if it did. 

"I am fine." Dick could swear he almost saw the kid blushing again, "just hurry up." 

"Okay, we're going to have to remove the sling first," Dick told him, reaching up to undo the strap. However, Damian's injuries seemed to be worse than he was originally letting on because the instant the stabilization of the sling loosened and his arm shifted the boy let out a sharp gasp and curled in reflexively around it. 

"Here let me-" Dick reached forward to try and stabilize the arm but Damian jerked away, the action seeming to agitate the arm further as he let out another cry. 

"Don't touch it!" He reminded Dick of a wounded animal backed into a corner, looking both frightened and ready to strike. 

"We can't get your tunic off if you don't let me help," Dick spoke in a soft voice, attempting to calm Damian down. "Let me help stabilize your right arm and then we can get the left sleeve off. We'll go from there, okay?" 

Damian looked around as if some other magical option was going to appear in the room out of nowhere. After determining there were no other options secretly hiding in the corners, he finally turned his gaze back to Dick and nodded slowly. 

"Alright," Dick spoke gently and approached Damian slowly, "this might hurt a little but just let me stabilize it." 

Dick gently pushed the arm up into Damian's chest where the sling had been holding it. The boy let out a hiss as it moved but didn't pull away. Sadly he was no stranger to withstanding pain. 

"Okay good. Now let's do the left sleeve," Dick kept the right arm in place with his left hand while reaching up with his right to help tug Damian's sleeve down while the boy wiggled his arm out of it. 

"Great, we're halfway there," 

Keeping gentle pressure on the arm Dick slowly began working the tunic off Damian's right shoulder. The boy flinched hard as Dick started trying to work the garment down where it was pinned between his arm and chest. 

"How bad are your injuries? Is your shoulder hurt too?" Dick really needed to know what he was working with here. 

"It was simply dislocated. I am fine." Damian didn't quite meet his eyes as he answered, probably already feeling shame at the signs of "weakness" he had already displayed. 

"Dislocations hurt," Dick informed him, as if he weren't already experiencing that first hand, "Let's put some ice on it after we go upstairs." 

As an afterthought he added "and we'll get you some pain killers too." 

Damian looked like he wanted to argue but instead he just bit his lip and tensed up as Dick continued to gently work the sleeve the rest of the way down his arm. 

They both gave a sigh of relief when it was finally off, and Dick helped him secure the sling again. 

* * *

Getting Damian out of his Robin shirt had been challenging enough, Dick didn't want to imagine the difficulty of wrangling him into another one. Damian seemed to have had the same thought too, because he hadn't protested when Dick ushered him upstairs bare chested. 

Now they faced their next challenge in getting ready for bed, which was brushing Damian's teeth. And with Damian, a challenge it was going to be. He had stood by patiently as Dick had prepared the toothbrush, squeezing a generous glop of red and white paste onto its bristles, but he gave in indigent squawk when Dick told him to "open up" and he realized that Dick was planning on helping him with this part of the process as well. 

"I can do it myself!" He demanded. 

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. "How?" 

"Tt!" Damian violently snatched the toothbrush out of Dick's hand, pinching it precariously between his pinky finger and the casted one next to it. He managed to get the bristles into his mouth, mostly by quickly grabbing it between his lips before it had a chance to fall from his tentative grip, but that is where he came to a standstill. With his broken fingers he couldn't grasp the brush firmly enough to brush properly, and instead began awkwardly pushing the brush around the best he could using his pinky finger. It looked ridiculous and Dick couldn't imagine it being very effective. Doing his best to hold in a laugh, as that was sure to set him off again, Dick gently pried the brush out of his mouth and tried to talk some sense into the glaring boy. 

"Look Damian. I understand how you're feeling. You don't want to feel helpless. You don't want to feel like you can't do things by yourself. But I'd hoped you'd realized after all this time that being part of a family means having people to rely on when you _do_ need help. That's why we're here. So let me take care of you. And next time I'm injured and in trouble you can come brush my teeth for me. Deal?" 

Damian flushed and looked away from Dick, seeming to contemplate his words. Finally he gave a small nod as he made up his mind. 

"Fine, you may assist me." 

"Alright then, open up." 

Although Damian had agreed to the help and didn't complain during the brushing, the look on his face throughout the ordeal screamed "if you ever tell anyone about this I will murder you." Dick ignored it, knowing it was his pride still putting up one last defense mechanism, and focused on gently cleaning his teeth. 

"Spit." 

Damian did while Dick filled a cup with temperate water. 

"Rinse." 

Damian obeyed him again with surprisingly little resistance. 

Some foamed toothpaste remained on the corner of Damian's mouth, and Dick reached up to brush at it with his thumb. He was caught for a moment, staring at the boy's face, noticing how it had changed recently. His jawline was becoming more square, and he was starting to look even more like Bruce. Although the current situation had him acting a bit pouty, his former Robin had really matured both emotionally and physically. 

He jerked away suddenly, realizing how long he had been staring, and not realizing how red Damian's face had gotten in the meantime. 

"Well, let's get you into bed," he said, trying to distract from the awkwardness of the moment he had just caused. He tried nudging Damian towards the door but the boy resisted. 

"I… need to use the facilities." He admitted, not meeting Dick's eyes. 

"Oh… do you need hel-" 

"I do not." Damian cut him off quickly, a scowl crossing the lips Dick had been admiring moments before. 

"Okay. Well, I'll wait outside then. Holler if you change your mind." 

He closed the door and waited outside the bathroom, not going too far. He didn't want to invade Damian's privacy but he needed to hear in case anything happened. He doubted Damian would stoop to calling him no matter what. 

It took longer than usual, though that was expected as Dick imagined getting in and out of his pants was still a struggle for him, but finally there was a knock at the door. Ah, right. Doorknobs would be another challenge. 

Dick took the fact that Damian knocked instead of just trying to kick down the door a win as he opened it for him. 

Finally Dick ushered the boy to his bed, turning down the covers so he could climb in. Once he was settled he pulled them up to his chin and smoothed them down. 

"Wait here," he said, and left the room in search of an ice pack and the pain killers he had promised earlier. 

When he returned he was almost surprised that Damian had stayed where he left him. He half expected him to make an escape attempt while he was gone. Either the injuries were tiring him out more than he was admitting, or Dick's words had somehow made an impact on him and convinced him he needed to rest. Either way he was glad to finally have a good patient (not that Dick ever was when he was injured, but that was besides the point…) 

He rolled back the blanket to gently press the icepack against Damian's injured shoulder. 

"Does that help?" 

"Yes," and then a delayed, "thank you." 

The kid really was getting more mature. 

Dick smoothed the blanket out again and then popped open the bottle of pain killers. He poured one out into his hand and sat on the edge of the bed next to Damian. 

He pushed the pill into Damian's mouth, finger brushing over his lip, and couldn't help but notice how cute Damian looked when he blushed. He held a cup of water to the boy's mouth next and he swallowed the pill obediently. Now if he could just keep this up until his bones fully healed, that would be great. Not that Dick believed for even a moment the Damian wouldn't be kicking and screaming through the whole thing. 

But for now, he was laying peacefully in his bed, safe, and no longer arguing. And that was something. 

Dick leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his forehead. 

"Good night Damian." 


	2. Chapter 2

This was the absolute worst. 

Damian groaned as he pulled himself from his slumber and his eyes fluttered open to stare at the bed's canopy above him. Awakening to another day of boredom, trials of his patience, patronizing "assistance", and… Grayson. 

If there was one good thing that could be said about his injuries, it was that Grayson has been staying around the house more the past few days. Damian would never admit it aloud but he had missed his older brother's presence recently. He was one of few people whom Damian did not find it a _struggle_ to get along with. The fact that the reason for his stay was because of Damian's own incapability to care for himself was less than ideal, but at least he was there. His older brother had taken it upon himself to take over many of Pennyworth's duties as well while the man was sick, so more often than not he was around the manor even when not directly caring for Damian. 

He had left to take care of some Nightwing duties in Bludhaven the previous evening after tucking Damian into bed though, so he was surprised to hear a knock on his door. Had Grayson really come all the way back to the manor this morning just for him? The idea was embarrassing but he couldn't help how his heart fluttered a bit at the thought of Grayson's devotion to him. 

Unfortunately when the door swung open, it was not Grayson's charming smile coming in to greet him, but rather Drake's unpleasant awkward grimace. 

"I didn't say 'come in,'" Damian scowled at his brother as he invaded his room without permission. He had slowly learned to accept Grayson's assistance, but he still did not want others around him when he was so vulnerable and…. weak-seeming. Not that he _was_ weak. Damian was strong no matter what minor injuries may have befallen him. But he does not enjoy others perceiving him as weak, as misguided as they may be, especially Drake. 

"Oh shut it, I brought you breakfast. Be grateful."

Drake was carrying a tray which Damian peered at hesitantly. With Pennyworth off cooking duty he could never be sure if what was being served was trustworthy, _especially_ if Grayson had any hand in preparing it. This seemed to be harmless enough though, a yogurt bowl with fruit and granola piled on top. 

Damian flexed his abdominals to curl himself up into a sitting position and slid himself back against the headboard with his legs as Drake carried the tray over. He placed the tray over Damian's lap and then eyed him uncomfortably. 

"What?" Damian scowled at him. He was in no mood for dealing with Drake's antics. He hadn't been in any mood to deal with _anyone_ since his injury, but that was beside the point. Drake was disturbing him. 

"Nothing," Drake actually _sighed_ , as if _he_ were the one being put upon. He seated himself on the edge of the bed, and a shudder of horror ran through Damian's body as he saw him grab the spoon and scoop up a glob of the yogurt. Surely he wasn't going to- 

"Open up." 

A flash of heat ran up through Damian's whole body, settling in his face as shame and fury waged war inside him. He saw red for a moment and before he could control his reaction, he exploded. 

"I DO _NOT_ NEED _YOU_ TO FEED ME, _DRAKE_ ! I am perfectly capable on my own!" How _dare_ Drake even _attempt_ something like that! He did not need to be made a mockery of, he-

"You seem like you need it. And you didn't mind when Dick was feeding you dinner last night…" 

Damian flushed at the memory. He could feel the anger boiling up inside him again at just the thought that Drake had witnessed that moment of weakness. He had gotten too complacent depending on Grayson's care.

"GET OUT!" he bellowed. He couldn't stand the sight of his brother anymore. He didn't want anyone around him when he was like _this_. 

"Damian, come on, I'm just trying to-" 

"OUT!" He yelled again, lashing out and hitting the only thing in his immediate reach, which happened to be the spoon. It hit Drake's chest with a splattering of yogurt and a minimum of damage before clattering down to the ground. They both stared at it in silence for a moment before Drake snapped.

"Fine. Enjoy your breakfast in bed, princess" Drake rushed out of the room, ignoring Damian's screech and he didn't look back as he all but slammed the door behind him. 

Damnit. 

Damian knocked his head back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. He knew he was being difficult, that Drake had only wanted to help, but he could not stand being treated like a literal baby needing to be fed. Ever since his injury, every task he was unable to complete on his own just added to his growing pile of humiliation and frustration. 

Not to mention something _else_ that was adding to his frustration. 

He couldn't feed himself, couldn't dress himself, couldn't take care of himself, and he couldn't _take care of himself,_ something that he usually did every night after patrol and sometimes in his morning shower as well. 

He was _not_ some kind of pervert; it was a normal biological function, something necessary to relieve stress and tension from the human body. As he was now, he felt like he was crawling in his skin after going days with no release. It was made all the worse by the fact that the main object of his _stress relief_ fantasies was now in constant close proximity with him. 

He had tried to think of _solutions_ to the problem. He deduced he would not be able to get enough stimulation from his injured left hand, but if he used a pillow as the source of his stimulation it would probably work, as long as he made sure to keep the force in his hips and not lay too much pressure on his injured right arm. The problem then, lay in the clean up. It was going to be difficult, nearly even imposible. He did not need another humiliation added onto the others he was already forced to face this week. 

A sharp knock rattled his door, bringing him out of his straying thoughts. There in lay another problem. No one around here seemed to believe him capable enough of caring for himself to leave him alone for more than two seconds. Locked doors were also a luxury he was not afforded. Even if he did find a _method_ , he was lacking any practical allowable time table. 

The door pushed open and Damian opened his mouth to give Drake another telling off (his own realizations about his stubbornness be damned, he was still too frustrated and too prideful to give any kind of apology to Drake at the moment), but it was not his brother who entered the room but rather, his father. 

The man eyed the yogurt covered spoon on the floor, and arched an eyebrow. 

"Tim told me you chased him out," he said, getting right to the point. 

"I did not _chase_ him out." 

"Well, not literally." His father actually smiled in a rather Grayson-like way. Damian pouted. He did not appreciate being teased. 

"He was treating me as if I were an infant." He defended himself. 

"He was trying to help you," his father replied, leaning down to pick up the dirty spoon. 

"He tried to _feed_ me!" Damian grit out indignantly. 

"Yes, he did. That was the point Damian. It doesn't look like you've gotten very far on your own, does it?" Damian glared at the still full bowl his father gestured to, trying to will it out of existence. He didn't have any response to his father, or any defense. 

After several awkward moments of tense silence his father sighed, running his hand over his face. Damian was starting to get tired of his family acting so put upon. He was the one suffering here. 

"Do you want me to call Dick over?" 

" _What_?" Damian startled. Why did everyone have to keep bringing up Grayson as well?

"You've seemed to be fine accepting his help eating." Damian's face flushed. How many people had witnessed his meals? Once again he had no reply for his father. 

He sat on the side of the bed, placing a hand over Damian's knee. 

"Look Damian. I know this is hard for you but you need to-" 

"Accept people's help." he interrupted, rolling his eyes, "yes, I am aware of the concept. I have been given the same speech by Grayson ten times per day since this happened." 

"Then you know that you need to apologize to Tim." It wasn't a question. 

"Yes, father," Damian replied after a pause. Even if he still was not in the mood to do any such thing. 

His father squeezed his knee comfortingly. 

"Good boy," he told him. "But it can wait until later, after you've both cooled down. First, breakfast." 

His father pulled out a clean spoon and Damian felt both relieved and doomed. 

* * *

After breakfast, Damian had had to suffer through his father helping him brush his teeth and get dressed. Then he had been made to suffer through an awkward apology to Drake, who thankfully did not behave like an ass about it for once. After that he'd been made to suffer through an afternoon of absolute _boredom_. In addition to patrol his father had also forbidden him from training of any kind. His current state made holding books and turning pages a bit difficult, which left him spending most of his time on the couch in front of the TV, Titus curled up next to him. He couldn't believe the drivel the American populace dared to call entertainment. 

It was a relief then when Batman and Red Robin started getting ready for patrol and Grayson reappeared as his caretaker for the evening. They had spent the past few evenings either going over case files together, or playing eye in the sky to Batman and Red. It was actually quite enjoyable and left Damian feeling almost nostalgic for the days when he had first become Robin and it had been just him and Grayson together. 

As much as he was loathe to miss out on patrol, after his boring day on the couch he was looking forward to an evening of detective work with Grayson. 

Or so he thought. 

As soon as the batmobile disappeared from the cave, Grayson, clad today in only his civilian clothes, turned to him. 

"Alright, time to address the elephant in the room," Grayson was looking at him with his _serious talk_ face. 

Damian stiffened. Surely Grayson couldn't know about… 

"I don't know what you mean," Damian flushed, and prayed that Grayson really wasn't talking about the same thing he was thinking about. 

"Little D, you _stink_." Grayson told him. "Have you even taken a bath since you got those casts on?" 

Oh. He stinks. Is that all. Well it is to be expected when he does not possess the arm mobility necessary to bathe himself at the moment. Relief flowed through him as he realized his secret was still safe, only to be filled with dread once more when Grayson started ushering him up the stairs. 

"Come on, my nose can't take much more of this, you're getting a bath."

He is going to take a bath. No, he is going to be _given_ a bath by Grayson. He flushed at the thought and then is gripped with horror when a certain part of him twitched to alert him that it was _very_ interested in the idea. He tried to squash his desire down, tried to argue with Grayson as he was poked and prodded up the stairs. Grayson's only rebuttal was "Nope, you stink. You stink. You _stink_." over and over like a child. It was both very ineloquent _and_ an unpleasant sentiment to hear repeatedly from someone he has … _strong affection_ _for_. 

Finally Damian was standing before a rapidly filling tub, waiting for his impending doom as Grayson gently removes his sling and wraps plastic bags around his casts. 

His only saving grace was that he managed to subtly complete some breathing exercises while Grayson was busy filling the tub with some kind of floral-scented bubble bath, so at least he has managed to get certain areas _under control_. How long he can keep them under control is yet to be seen though, as Grayson's finished his wrapping, and they're both eyeing each other uncomfortably knowing the next step before Damian's bath can get underway. Dick opened his mouth but Damian cut him off before he can get anything out. 

"I can do it myself. Just. Turn around." He's trying so hard not to blush, not to look like a foolish child afraid of some nudity, but it was challenging. Thankfully Grayson was being accommodating and he turned silently, stepping a few paces away to give him some miniscule semblance of privacy. 

Damian hooked his pinky into the waistband of both his sweatpants and briefs and braced himself for a moment before pulling them down quickly. He kicked them off from around his ankles then hurriedly stepped into the tub, hiding under the foamy cover of the bubble bath. 

Grayson approached the tub and knelt down beside it. "How about we start with your hair?"

Now that he had gotten through the undressing bit, Damian was starting to see the merits of this whole bath idea. His hair had become quite greasy and having it clean would certainly be refreshing. He nodded in agreement. 

"Alright, close your eyes." 

He did as instructed for once and soon felt warm bathwater trickling over his hair from Grayson's cupped hands. This was followed by a thorough lathering of shampoo, Damian appreciating Grayson's skilled hands as they massaged his scalp gently. He found himself relaxing easily into the touch, enjoying the way Grayson's nails occasionally scratched lightly against him. 

His hair was rinsed, and the process was repeated with the conditioner. Damian let out a soft content sigh as Grayson's fingers slowly worked over his scalp. 

His hair was rinsed again. Now Grayson pulled out a blue washcloth. After lathering it up with some citrus scented body wash (which he must have brought with him because it was _not_ Damian's usual, unscented one), he began scrubbing Damian's shoulders. 

Like with his hair wash, he found himself relaxing into the soft massage as Grayson worked his shoulders, drawing the cloth especially lightly over his recently dislocated one, and continued down his back. His eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself in the soothing motions. Why had he not considered this a good idea? Being bathed by Grayson's skilled hands was an excellent idea, it was so rela- 

Damian startled as Dick moved onto his front, and he held back a gasp as he felt the scratchy cloth brush over his left nipple. The cloth brushed his nipple again as Grayson worked his chest in gentle circles, and a sudden horror took over him as his lower half took a deep interest in what was going on. _This_ . This was why the bathing idea had been terrible. It had been _days_ since Damian had achieved any kind of release. There was no way his raging hormones and pent up body were about to ignore the ministrations of the star of his favorite masterbation fantasies lathering up his sensitive nipples. 

This was... not ideal. The indignities he had suffered at Grayson's hands this week so far were already humiliating enough without exposing his aroused genitalia to his former mentor as well. He tried to keep control of himself but when Grayson moved onto the right side of his chest and his other sensitive bud he could feel himself filling out more down below. The delicate way he slowly worked the cloth over Damian here did not help either. Damian knew it was only him being careful not to aggravate the injuries further, but there was something just so _intimate_ about it. His only saving grace now was Grayson's childlike affinity for bubble baths. 

He had to do something to stop this. He attempted to think of something displeasing that could rid him of his state of arousal. His grandfather. Grandfather and Drake _together_. Drake together with anyone. It was no use though, the warm bathwater combined with Grayson's gentle ministrations were too distracting for him to focus on anything else. Instead he had to focus on holding back the moan that threatened to escape him as one of Grayson's nails accidentally grazed his nipple, biting down on his lip hard. 

Soon Grayson started dragging the cloth down his toned stomach and Damian started to panic. Just a few inches lower and there would be no hiding the state he was in. He had to do something immediately. If thoughts wouldn't work, he'd have to resort to action. A bit of pain should be enough to distract his body. 

Steeling himself, he shifted his recently dislocated shoulder. He tried to hide his shudder as a wave of pain ran through him, but apparently he was some kind of secret masochist because the adrenaline from the aggravated injury somehow seemed to only make his flushed member harder. 

He was going to have to commit. Grayson had worked lower down his stomach and, oh god, was now probing a soapy finger into his belly button. He took a breath to steady himself, then this time he rolled his injured shoulder, hard. 

He couldn't stop the cry of pain that left him or the way his body instinctively curled in on itself protectively. 

Dick pulled back immediately, going into panic mode and trying to figure out what happened, thinking he was somehow at fault. 

Damian brushed off his concerns, though he knew Dick didn't trust him. The shoulder was still smarting but thankfully the pain had done its job and gotten rid of his _predicament_. 

With his bath only half finished he allowed Grayson to help him out of the tub and didn't even protest when he set about carefully drying him with a large fluffy white towel. Still riding high from the horrible situation he had narrowly avoided and the newly renewed pain, he also didn't protest when he was wrapped in a robe, led to bed, and gently laid down with an ice pack pressed over his shoulder. 

* * *

The problem was, although he had avoided one bath, two days later Grayson insisted on another. 

"Most people bathe _every_ day, Damian," was all he had said to Damian's protests that it was unneeded. 

They repeated the same process as last time, Damian desperately trying to calm himself while Grayson filled the tub with bubbles.

The only difference was _this_ time after Damian climbed into the tub, Grayson started _stripping_. 

"Grayson! What _are_ you doing?!" Damian squawked, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks as he slammed his eyes shut to avoid the temptation of looking. He knew once he saw Grayson's nude body he would be done for. 

He startled as he felt the bath water behind him rippling, his eyes flying open as he turned to see exactly what was happening. He immediately regretted it as it brought him momentarily at eye level with Grayson's… very sizable and shapely organ. He flushed again as he also couldn't help noticing how neatly trimmed his hair was down there. 

Grayson finished sinking into the tub behind him and Damian seized up as he felt Grayson's bare thighs brush against his sides as he stretched his legs out, getting comfortable and framing Damian's body. 

Damian couldn't think. There was no blood left for brain functions after it had all streamed south at the sight of Grayson's Adonis-like body and the feel of his bare skin pressed against him on all sides. It felt as though his skin had been stretched over a rock, his hardened penis almost bordering on painful as it screamed for attention. Vaguely he recognized that Grayson was babbling about something. He tried to pay attention but it was difficult with his brain in full panic mode mixed with full arousal. He caught something about not aggravating his injuries and having more control but he couldn't really comprehend what was happening in what felt like both a nightmare and a wet dream. 

He finally grasped the full meaning moments later when Grayson's arm wrapped around his chest, pulling him back flush against Grayson's own. Damian gasped. He tried to pull away but Grayson only tightened his grip while chastising him. 

"Damian, hold still. I don't want to accidentally injure you again." 

Damian groaned. Grayson foolishly blamed himself for Damian's injuries last time. Even though he had specifically told him that he was not at fault. 

Grayson started on his chest with the wash cloth and Damian bit his lip as it brushed his nipple to hold in a moan. Underwater his erect penis gave a delighted twitch. Damian cursed it. Then he cursed himself. He was Robin dammit. He was a professional at getting himself out of tough situations, he should be able to get out of this! But his brain seemed to have been drugged by Grayson's stupid sexy body, because it was refusing to function properly. This was worse than falling victim to one of Ivy's choice poisons. 

Grayson finished his chest and was moving down to his stomach, over his abdominals. He had to stop this immediately. 

" _Grayson_." Oh God. Why did that come out sounding almost like a moan? Damian's face was on fire, his whole body hot and flushed. 

"Are you okay little D? I didn't hurt you did I?" 

Damian was about to reply, to tell him he did not hurt him but he needed him to leave, _now,_ but he did not get the chance to. Grayson preemptively decided to remove his hand from Damian's stomach, assumedly to cease any pain he believed he was causing Damian. Unfortunately he did not pull his hand _up_ , the way it had come from, but rather _out_ , and directly into Damian's hardened member which was standing straight at attention. 

A moan escaped his lips at the brief contract, and even more mortifyingly his hips bucked up, chasing Grayson's hands of their own accord, desperate for more contact. Some of the bubbles had been brushed away by Grayson's hand as well, leaving Damian's flushed tip visible through the clear bathwater. 

"Oh…" was all that left Grayson's lips as they both stared down at it. 

A rock dropped in Damian's stomach. He needed to escape, _desperately_ wanted to flee the scene, but Grayson's arm was still wrapped sturdily around his chest. Robin would punch, kick, and katana his way out of a terrible situation, but in this moment Damian Wayne was frozen with no idea how to react. 

Grayson was the only of his brothers that he actually _liked_ , that actually _liked him_. And now he was going to think Damian was disgusting. He was going to hate him. He felt tension building up behind his eyes, slamming them shut and taking deep breaths, trying to will the tears away. He was much too old for crying. Not that there had ever been a time in his life where he felt crying was acceptable. 

Suddenly he felt Dick's grip around him tighten as his older brother pulled him more securely into his chest and leaned over, speaking in a calming voice. 

"Hey, it's okay Little D. Just calm down. Do you want me to… assist you with that?" 

Damian balked. He could _not_ have heard that right. 

" _What_?" Somehow Damian's voice seemed to come out five octaves higher than normal as his brain struggled to comprehend what was happening. 

"I mean," Dick paused for a moment and Damian could practically feel the awkwardness rolling off him, "it's a natural bodily function. When I was your age I had to take care of it at _least_ twice a day, and you've already been in that cast for how long… even now I couldn't…" Grayson's ramblings trailed off and shit, now Damian was imagining him masterbating and that was in no way helpful to his current situation. His mind was still telling him to flee as fast as possible, but his hardened penis gave a twitch under the water and told him that what he had been fantasizing about since he was old enough to even get an erection was about to come true. 

Why was he filled with hesitation? He was horny, pent up, helpless to do anything about it, and the Dick _fucking_ Grayson had just offered to touch him. There should not be anything to consider. 

Damian realized he was frightened. Scared of being vulnerable. Of sharing something intimate which he never had before. Letting Grayson see him when he did not possess total control of himself. And most of all scared of how this could affect his and Grayson's relationship going forward. 

But then again, Damian Wayne had never been one to let something miniscule like fear stop him. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Damian's heart was racing. 

This was really going to happen. An awkward pause had been left between them as Damian was weighing his options and Grayson's ramblings had trailed off, but now it was time to get things started.

"You m-may. A-assist me." He stammered. 

Damian groaned internally. That was not how he had wanted to start things off. He wanted to sound mature and confident; alluring even. Not like an awkward teenager who was about to have his penis touched by someone else for the first time. Even if that is what he was. 

Grayson seemed to pick up on his nervousness too because he was making that little cooing noise he did whenever he was trying to get Damian to calm down, and he was running his hands up and down Damian's sides in what he assumed was supposed to be a soothing gesture. All it was actually succeeding in was getting Damian more riled up, warmth rolling through him at the brush of Grayson's fingertips. 

"It's okay Little D," Grayson whispered in his ear, and Damian's face went hot at the closeness of it. "You can close your eyes. Just think about, you know, whatever you normally do. Pretend I'm not here." 

What Damian normally thought about was currently seated directly behind him and whispering in his ear. He wasn't about to tell him that though. He just nodded in agreement and kept his eyes determinedly open as he watched a hand slip forward under the bathwater towards his still aching erection. 

He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until that hand paused just a sliver away from his cock. Thankfully he managed to hold back a whine at the continued delay of contact and inhaled sharply through his nose as his cock gave an indigent twitch under the water. 

"Oh. And uh," it was rare for Grayson to be this hesitant, usually he was very charismatic and in control, "umm. You can tell me. Like. If you need me to…speed up or, stop or something. Okay?" 

Right now Damian simply wanted him to _start,_ but instead of yelling that out in tense frustration like he desired to, he simply nodded curtly. 

"Okay I'm going to start. Oh and uh, I'll shut up too, sorry." 

Damian wanted to tell him there was no need to be quiet. That Grayson was one of the few people whose voice he didn't mind, who he may in fact even enjoy hearing during a moment such as this. He had no time to dwell on that thought however because suddenly Grayson's hand was wrapping itself around his aching cock and this time an embarrassing whine did manage to rip it's way out of his throat. 

It felt so _good_ to have any simulation after going so long without. Heat pooled in his stomach and he ached for more, Grayson's fingers sending waves of pleasure through him as they stroked up and down. The fact that it was Grayson touching him added to his arousal, his cock desperately hard and wanting. 

But it wasn't enough. His grip was too loose, strokes too slow and gentle compared to what Damian was used to. As good as it felt, it also felt torturous and teasing; on the edge of what he needed but not quite there, not quite enough. 

He gave out another frustrated whine as Grayson continued the gentle ministrations. Damian's hips canted up into the older man's hand, but as Grayson's other arm still had him pinned back against his chest, his movement was limited. He moaned again, Grayson's long torturous fingers still teasing him. 

" _M-more!_ " He finally managed to breathe out. Grayson reacted immediately, and Damian was thankful he didn't need to elaborate. His fingers tightened harder around his firm shaft and his strokes went from slow and gentle to fast and purposeful. 

Damian moaned and relished in the contact. Waves of pleasure rolled through his body as he finally got the stimulation he needed. Grayson's rapid arm movement was making the bathwater splash up on him but he didn't care, he just moaned again as the sound of the splashing water made another wave of lust roll through him. 

He could already feel something tight and hot coiling inside him, like a warm pressure building that needed to be released. Meanwhile he was helpless; arms out of commission and body pinned back against Grayson's own. He had no method to chase his own release besides taking what Grayson chose to give him. 

"P-please!" He whined out, admittedly a bit pathetically but he couldn't care about that right now, not when he was this close, "please, Grayson! I need-" 

Thankfully Grayson seemed to know exactly what he needed because he sped his arm up a bit, gave his wrist a few twists around Damian's cock, and then Damian was crying out as that coiling pressure was finally released, Grayson keeping a steady rhythm around him until he was finally all spent. 

When Damian was aware of his surroundings again he was leaning back against Grayson's chest, panting, while the older vigilante whispered sweet nothings into the back of his hair. 

" _It's okay baby bird, I got you_." 

Looking down, Damian could see the evidence of his release in the bathwater, and he felt himself go red. He couldn't believe he had ejaculated so much, and so quickly. Of course it was to be expected when he'd been without release for days, but he still wished he could have put on a better showing for Grayson. He didn't want his manliness to be questioned. 

The more he thought about Grayson the more the pleasant sated feeling he had from his orgasm drifted into a cold feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Grayson's murmurings had trailed off and he was now seemingly content to just be nuzzling into Damian's hair. They both seemed a bit paralyzed in the moment, unsure where to go from there. The bathwater started to get cold. 

"You feeling better now?" Grayson finally broke the silence, because of course he would be the one to, Damian had no idea what to say after something like that. He still didn't know what to say so he just nodded. 

"Well, let's get you to bed then," he said in his usual chipper way, as if he hadn't just jerked Damian to completion. 

Damian felt him shift and looked up in time to get a delightful view of his perfectly toned backside dripping with bathwater as he got out of the tub and crossed the room to grab towels. Under the dirty water his penis gave a small twitch to let Damian know that it liked what it saw and that it wouldn't be opposed to a round two. Damian wanted it to shut up. They didn't even know if there would be a round two and they should count themselves lucky there had even been a round one. 

Grayson came back to the tub and reached out steadying arms to support Damian as he stepped out. Damian's body flushed as he stood naked and dripping in front of the tub. Sure, Grayson had been touching his penis just moments ago, but there was still something embarrassing about standing there on full display, not even being able to use his arms to cover himself. 

Thankfully Grayson was quick with the towel, but it would still take a while before Damian would be covered again. He started with Damian's hair, rubbing the towel over it quickly and roughly. Damian could tell that it must be sticking up on all directions when Grayson finally removed the towel, but his caretaker did nothing to smooth it down, and Damian was helpless to tame it with his own arms, so he was left looking like a fool. He scowled at Grayson. The imbecile just winked at him, grinning, and went on to gently pat down Damian's shoulders, back, and chest with the towel. 

Then came the difficult part: removing the plastic from around Damian's casts, and getting his arm back into the sling. They had developed a bit of a technique for it by now, but Damian still sucked in a sharp breath when his shoulder was shifted and a jolt of pain ran through him. 

Grayson flashed a concerned look up at him, but knew better by now than to baby him every time he faced mild discomfort. 

The next part of the drying off process crossed from mild discomfort to crushing embarrassment as Grayson encircled his penis in the fluffy towel before reaching down and cupping it over his testicles. He was quick and clinical about it, but that didn't stop Damian's spine from stiffening and his body from flushing head to toe. 

Thankfully the rest of his drying went quickly (with Damian only blushing slightly at the feel of Grayson smoothing the towel over his buttocks), and he was finally stepping into some briefs and pajama pants, his full nudity no longer on display. 

He then had to suffer watching Grayson shamelessly dry himself off though, which his penis thought definitely shouldn't be allowed unless Grayson was planning a round two. By the time Grayson had gotten redressed Damian was already half hard. 

He shifted to try and hide it as Grayson ushered him towards the sink and began his teeth brushing routine. As he maneuvered the brush over Damian's teeth in quick, even strokes, Damian's mind couldn't help but wonder what the press of lips against his own would feel like, or how it would feel to suck Grayson's fingers into his mouth instead and run his tongue over them. A small moan escaped him at the image, but it turned into a choked gargle inside his foam-filled mouth. Grayson just gave him a look and instructed him to spit and rinse. 

Finally he was tucked into bed, and Damian was surprised when Grayson still leaned in to give him a goodnight kiss on the forehead as usual. Perhaps the incident in the bath really hadn't shaken their relationship as much as Damian feared it would. Grayson's eyes were filled with nothing but warmth as he whispered "Good night Little D." 

Then he left Damian alone with nothing but his thoughts. Well, his thoughts _and_ another raging erection. It was going to be a long night. 


	4. Chapter 4

The “morning after” was always awkward, but this might take the cake. 

No, scratch that. This was not a morning after. “After” implied that there had been a “before”, and there had been no such thing. What had happened yesterday was definitely not a “before”, it was simply an older brother helping his injured younger sibling take care of a basic biological function. That was all. Completely innocent and lacking in beforeness. 

Dick paused outside of Damian’s door and took a deep breath. He could do this. Just because he had jerked his little brother off in the bath last night didn’t mean that anything had to change between them. Damian may have Bruce’s genes, but Dick had inherited something from him as well. Namely, his ability to push down all of his feelings and ignore an uncomfortable situation in order to avoid talking about it. It wouldn’t do to have a rift between them right now. Damian still needed to be taken care of, so that was what Dick was going to do. 

_Just like you took care of him last night?_ the voice in the back of his mind taunted him.

 _That was helping him!_ Dick argued back against himself. What he had done was sexual in nature, yes, but it was just another way to help his injured brother. It was no different than helping him eat or helping him brush his teeth. Teenage boys needed sexual release or they would get agitated and hormonal. Dick had simply been helping Damian fulfill a proper biological function. 

_And you fisting your cock back in your room while you remembered it? Was that biology too?_

Dick feels a steel ball of guilt weighing down his stomach. He shouldn’t have done that. It was unfair to Damian. The kid was injured; he hadn’t been able to fulfill a need on his own, and he had trusted Dick enough to take care of him. Then Dick had gone and betrayed that trust by using that memory for his own perverted gains. 

He knew it was wrong, Damian hadn’t consented to be on the other end of Dick’s unwanted feelings, but he just couldn’t help himself. He’d watched Damian grow from a cocky, uncontrolled kid to a confident yet caring young man. He’s really shined under Bruce’s tutelage, developing a strong moral compass and leaving a distinctive mark on Gotham with his hero work. Damian has really matured. 

His body has matured as well. Something Dick couldn’t help but notice in the bath last night. The evidence had been right there in his hand, crying out for help. It would have been wrong not to help his injured brother take care of that. That doesn’t mean that it was right the way he had allowed his gaze to wander all over his little brother’s body during the fact though, taking in the red blush that spread over his face to his harsh jawline, the little o his mouth formed as moaned, the way his ab muscles had rippled as he’d tried to thrust, and the small smattering of dark hair growing low over them, leading Dick’s eyes to where the tip of his flushed cock was just visible under the water. Damian was absolutely breathtaking and - and Dick was supposed to be taking care of him, not fantasizing about him. He shifts, realizing he’s gotten half hard thinking about the incident last night. 

He needs to pull himself together and squash down these feelings for Damian’s sake. For now, he just needs to get the kid fed. He adjusts himself in his pants quickly before finally knocking on the door he’s been moping outside of for far too long. Time to put on a happy face. 

“You may enter.” 

Dick pushes the door open to find Damian already sitting up in his bed against the headboard. It’s hard to make out from across the room, but he thinks he can see a dusting of red on the boy’s face. He may have his work cut out for him. Damian isn’t avoiding his eyes though, so that’s a good sign.

"Good morning Little D! Did you sleep well?" he calls out cheerfully as he steps into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. 

It’s a perfectly innocent question, but the instant it leaves his mouth he realizes how that might sound after what happened last night. He regrets it immediately. One glance at Damian's face tells him that the implication was not lost on him either. There is no doubt about the color of the boy’s face now, as red as the strawberries on the tray Dick is carrying, and his gaze is now firmly to the side of the room. 

Open foot, insert mouth. 

At least he's gotten the big blunder out of the way first thing. It'll be smooth sailing from here. 

He doesn't call attention to the fact that Damian ignored his question as he approaches the bed with his breakfast tray, an overly cheerful smile still plastered on. It transforms into a genuine grin though when he notices Damian subtly eyeing the tray’s contents, already finding something to distract him from Dick’s poor word choices. He knows the look on Damian’s face as one of great distrust. Dick can work with this.

"Hey!" he calls out, feigning offense, "you don't have to look so suspicious you know!"

"The meals you prepare can not always be trusted, Grayson," the boy bites back matter-of-factly. 

Dick fights to keep the pleased grin off his face and instead contorts it to an overly dramatic look of hurt. This is good. This is normal. Joke around and distract Damian from the comment he just made. And distract himself from letting his mind wander back to last night. 

"How dare you! I work hard to prepare meals for you. I was slaving away over a hot stove all morning you know!" 

Dick never had the time to join the drama department when he was in high school, but he thinks he would have made an excellent actor. There’s absolutely nothing campy or over the top about his performance. Nothing at all. 

Damian rolls his eyes at him. 

"It's a fruit plate and oatmeal. _Instant_ oatmeal, from the looks of it. I doubt it took you more than five minutes," he sneers. Dick knows that deep down he's appreciative; snarkiness is just his go to defense mechanism. He's already resigned himself to the fact that he's going to be hearing a lot of it until the boy is properly healed and doesn't feel so vulnerable all the time. Dick doesn’t mind though; that’s just part of what makes Damian, Damian. A little bit of pride never hurt anyone. He ignores the negative tone and continues his mission to cheer the kid up. That and to get him fed. 

"Oh, but it's not just any oatmeal my dear boy!" Dick tells him, tone changing from downtrodden to exaggerated excitement as he sits down on the edge of the bed and places the tray over Damian's lap, "feast your eyes on this exoticism!" 

Dick lets his smile out freely now as he watches his brother's eyes lower to examine the bowl. Contained within the oatmeal are red, orange, and green dinosaur-shaped sprinkles. Damian scowls up at him. 

"And what is this supposed to be?" he questions with irritation. 

Dick suddenly realizes he's made another huge mistake, this time of the culinary variety. 

"Oh my gosh, Little D, I'm so sorry!" he cries out. Damian looks extremely taken aback by the sudden apology. 

"How could I have been so foolish to serve them to you like this!" Dick continues, hyping up the drama, "everyone knows the best part is getting to watch them hatch! I should have known better than to pour in the hot water without you. I will regret this for the rest of my life. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" 

He brings a hand to his forehead and tilts it back dramatically, as if the weight of the world is burdening him. 

Damian just stares at him flatly, unimpressed. 

"I prefer my oatmeal without the unnecessary processed sugar," he says eventually when Dick has held his pose long enough to probably start irritating him. 

"Just try it, they're good, I promise," Dick tells him, slipping back into his regular tone, "These were my favorite when I was a kid." 

"I am not a child," Damian tells him. Dick almost senses a feeling of hurt behind his words. 

"I know," Dick tells him softly. God did he know. "Can you just try them? It was all we had in the cupboard." 

Damian huffed, letting out his usual "Tt", but he finally relented. 

"Fine. I suppose I can try them this one time. If you recommend them." He mumbles the last bit. 

Dick smiles and readies the spoon. 

"But, how did they get in the cupboard in the first place?" Damian, far too clever for Dick's liking, asks him before he can get the first bite on his mouth, "Pennyworth certainly would never have purchased such an atrocity." 

Dick looks away guilty. 

"Grayson…"

"Jason bought them!" 

"Grayson." His tone is no-nonsense. Dick knows he's been caught. 

"Fine, okay I bought them!" he admits, "But that doesn't change the fact that they were the only thing in the cupboard! They were the only thing I bought…." 

"Tt. Well I suppose it's slightly better than those sugary Cracky Crisps that you always insist on eating." 

"Crocky Crunch!" Dick cries, genuinely offended. 

“Tt. Whatever,” Damian scoffs. Then he lets his mouth fall open. 

Dick's eyes catch on it and the cute round shape it makes that reminds him so much of last night. His lips look soft and lush, and Dick can just see his tongue inside, pink and wet. He wants to taste it. To claim those lips. To push his own tongue inside and explore every inch of Damian. 

Damian clicks his mouth shut. Dick is pulled harshly back into reality. Oh no. He was supposed to be feeding Damian, and instead he'd just been staring at him like a lecher. The boy’s eyes are turned down now, bright red covering his cheeks. Guilt coils in Dick's stomach; he knows how much of a struggle it is for Damian to accept help. Here he'd been actually cooperating for once, and Dick had ruined it by being a perv. 

He feels angry at himself, but there is nothing he can do now besides damage control. 

“Sorry Little D. I was uh… lost in thought,” he says sheepishly.

He lifts the spoon up towards Damian. He’s ignored.

“Dami…” 

The boy slowly opens his mouth. He’s still looking pointedly away from Dick. At least he's being cooperative though. 

Dick places the spoon in Damian's mouth and watches him seal his lips around it before pulling the utensil back out. He watches the way his throat swallows. He’s definitely not thinking any more dirty thoughts though. No, none at all. 

Dick tries to focus on completing the task at hand as quickly and efficiently as possible. He brings Damian another spoonful, then another. On the next spoonful he can't help but notice the way Damian's tongue is licking the bottom of the spoon as Dick pulls it from his lips. He feels his face warming up. Feeding Damian has never been such a challenge of his willpower before. Dick had always taken on the task with an impassive utilitarianism; it was just a job that needed to be done to help Damian. Now though, after last night, he can't stop himself from over-analyzing every twitch and pull of Damian's lips, every subtle change in expression on his face. He can't stop his mind from wandering to places that it really really shouldn't. 

"What did you think?" he asks, when the bowl is finally empty, trying to keep his tone light and not betray the places his mind had gone to. 

"It was too sugary… but acceptable," Damian replies. The boy finally meets his eyes again, and Dick feels a bit of relief. 

"I'm glad you liked it," he smiles at him, "alright, on to the fruit!" 

Today Dick had prepared strawberries and banana. He's very grateful to his past self for having the foresight to cut the banana up into little pieces. In his mental state he's not sure that his brain could have handled the responsibility of inserting a full banana into Damian's open mouth… he feels warmth pulse in his groin just from the mental image. 

Trying to rid himself of any bad thoughts, he picks up a strawberry and holds it to Damian’s lips. Okay, that is not helping in the getting rid of bad thoughts department; there’s something very sensual about the way the plump red fruit presses against his soft pink lips. Damian opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into its juicy flesh. A bit of juice rolls over his bottom lip, and down onto his chin.

Dick _craves_ to lean in and catch the drip with his tongue. Then he wants to lick inside and taste that sweet strawberry in the boy's mouth. Instead, he reaches up and wipes it away with his thumb. Damian's lips are soft, he notices, not for the first time. Dick licks the juice off his thumb, absentmindedly. 

Damian is staring at him. He pulls his hand away and quickly goes for the next piece of fruit, as if what he'd done was completely normal and he hadn't just been thinking something impure about his little brother. He pushes a little chunk of banana into Damian's mouth. His lips catch around Dick's finger before he has a chance to remove it all the way. He feels a small flicker of a tongue. 

By the time breakfast is done Dick is more than a little riled up. He walks over to set the tray by the door, using it as an excuse to adjust his cock in his pants again while he's turned out of Damian's view. He still needs to help the kid get dressed and brush his teeth before he can do anything about it. Dick prays that he can get himself under control; he can't view everything Damian does as sexual now just because of what he'd helped him with last night. 

If this is what breakfast has done to him though… he's totally unprepared for what will happen when he has to help Damian in the bath again this evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else love that dinosaur oatmeal as a kid? Y/N? >.>  
>   
> Anyways, I had pretty bad writer's block with this chapter. >_< To be honest I’m not completely satisfied with how it came out, but I wanted to keep the story moving. At least this chapter has succeeded in its purpose of getting us from ~~smut A to smut B~~ point A to point B.  
> 
> 
> **Bonus:**  
>  For anyone who’s been wondering “How does Damian poop? Does Dick wipe his ass?”, please note that Wayne Manor is a very elegant and sophisticated home, and therefore contains bidets in all the washrooms. Fiercely independent and prideful as he is, Damian has chosen to utilize them during his recovery, using the limited mobility in his left arm to press the buttons. He has to air-dry afterwards though, so those bathroom trips tend to take a long while. He tries to time them for when his other family members are otherwise occupied and won't notice his lengthy absence; he doesn’t like other people knowing that he’s pooping. Dick did ask him if he needed help though, on the second day of his recovery. Of course Damian firmly refused it. 
> 
> If there’s anything else you’re curious about Dick helping Damian with while he’s injured, drop it in the comments. (^_-)♡


	5. Chapter 5

Dick is smiling as he waves Bruce and Tim off in the Batmobile, but inside he’s a jumbled mess. Until now he had secretly looked forward to their departure every evening, their absence helping to quell Damian’s defensive posturing and giving them some quiet time together to bond. Now however… he had opened Pandora’s box last night and pretty much doomed himself for all eternity. The image of his sweet, innocent (okay, maybe not so _innocent_ , Damian has done a lot of questionable things in his life) baby brother has now been tainted with Dick’s perversions, something which he has been trying to avoid thinking about all day, but that has been made difficult by Damian’s latent attractiveness. An attractiveness which he had previously been blissfully ignoring, but since last night has been screaming in Dick’s face constantly. Thankfully Dick had been able to pawn off Damian onto Tim for most of the afternoon, giving him a desperately needed reprieve from having to watch every word out of his mouth. Until today Dick had never realized exactly how many double entendres he used in his daily repertoire. 

Unfortunately this move also came with the downside of Damian being put in a very foul mood. He and Tim did still have a tendency to get under each others’ skin. The boy is standing poutily just behind Dick, seeing the Batmobile off with a glare. Dick doubts he would wave them off even if his arms weren’t still bound up. 

As Gotham’s protectors for the night finally pull out of view, Dick feels a knot forming in his stomach. Taking a breath to steel himself, and keeping his winning Grayson smile in place, he turns around to face his charge for the night. He can still take care of his brother and be professional. Damian is not attracted to him, Dick reminds himself; helping his brother get off is just another need he has to take care of while the boy’s injured. He just needs to keep things quick and clinical. That is, if Damian even wants his help again.

The boy is still staring off in the direction of the cave exit, displeased expression remaining on his face. Dick can already think of one way to change that expression; just a few strokes and he’s sure that tight pout will soften into a soft and beautiful o and… shit, Dick is really failing at the “don’t think dirty thoughts” thing. 

“How’re you feeling Little D?” Dick asks him, both to distract himself, and to check in with him. Damian is never good at offering his feelings up on his own, he has to be prompted. Prompted in the correct way too, or else his defensiveness raises again. 

“Tt” is all that Dick gets in response, so apparently Dick’s approach was the wrong one this time. He tries again. Sometimes it takes some coaxing. 

“You seem unhappy. What happened? You and Tim get into a fight?” 

“No. Well, yes, Drake was aggravating, as usual, today, but that’s not why… I mean. It’s nothing,” Damian answers, trailing off at the end and voice getting small. 

The knot in Dick’s stomach grows. If it wasn’t Tim that he was upset with, it must be him. Perhaps Dick really had overstepped a boundary last night, even if Damian had agreed to it. Guilt weighs heavy in his gut. He had just been trying to help, but maybe he had messed things up. Dick needs to know, but he can’t bring himself to ask directly. 

“Tell me,” he pleads instead, keeping his tone soft. 

Damian’s eyes flicker up to his face for a moment, before back to the cave entrance. He’s silent for a moment, but Dick doesn’t press. He can tell Damian is gathering his thoughts. They’ve been through this back and forth many times in the past. Damian will talk when he’s ready. 

“I’m supposed to be Robin,” he says finally, “I’m supposed to help father protect this city. What good am I to him if I can’t even go out on patrol?”

Dick’s feels like a self-centered idiot for even thinking that Damian’s worry was about him. Poor Damian. Dick is overwhelmed with the need to comfort him. He knows exactly how he feels, and he tells him so.

“It’s okay Damian. Injuries happen in our line of work. All of us have been benched at some point or another while we waited to recover. Even Bruce. It’s not fun being on the sidelines, I know, but Bruce is not going to hold this against you. He just wants you to be safe and heal up properly. You just have to be patient a little longer.”

“But I’m useless.” 

Dick waits to see if he’ll offer anything else, but his words stop there. He’s still staring off to the edge of the cave, and he looks so small and helpless. It makes Dick’s heart melt. He wants nothing more than to wrap Damian up in his arms and squeeze him until he realizes just how wonderful he is. 

“You are not useless Damian. Allowing your body to heal _is_ useful. You are recovering so that when you get back out there you’ll be performing at one hundred percent.”

“Like, you’re one to talk. Last month you continued patrol despite a still healing knife wound in your side,” Damian accuses him. 

“Yeah you’re right,” Dick admits sheepishly. It still hasn’t healed all the way, there’s an angry red line still winding its way up his torso. Dick’s used to it by now though. He continues. 

“When I get badly hurt though, like you are now, I stick to my doctor’s orders.” 

Damian lifts a disbelieving eyebrow at him. 

“It’s true! Back when it was just me and B, we were chasing these robbers and one of them pushed a bookcase down on me. I couldn’t dodge out of the way in time and the thing crushed my leg. It was over three months before Bruce let me out on patrol again. Let me tell you, hopping around this giant mansion on crutches was not fun.” 

“So because you foolishly allowed yourself to get injured in your youth, that somehow negates my current uselessness?” Damian responds haughtily. Dick sighs. Above them in the cave a bat flies over Damian’s head, just like Dick’s point. 

“Do you think I’m useless now?” Dick asks him. Damian’s face shows a mixture of confusion and irritation, but he replies. 

“No… you are a talented fighter and important ally against crime.”

“So taking a leave of absence in order to heal did not negate my usefulness,” Dick smiles at Damian as he replies. He can see the look of consideration on his face.

“Fine, I can accept your point. But that doesn’t mean I have to like this,” he finally concedes. 

“No one likes it,” Dick laughs, reaching forward to put a comforting hand on Damian’s shoulder. He feels the boy flinch briefly under his touch, and suddenly the big uncomfortable worry that this conversation had distracted him from comes flooding back. He pulls his hand back and tries not to let his emotions show on his face. 

“Anyways… how about we go get ready for bed?” he suggests. As long as Dick can keep his wayward thoughts under control it might be good to help Damian… relieve some stress. 

Damian just nods, and Dick thinks he sees him blushing, but before he can be sure the boy’s pushing past him and leading the way up out of the cave. All Dick can do is follow and hope for the best. 

It’s not long before Damian is prepared for his bath. Dick makes idle chatter the whole time he’s wrapping his casts in plastic, being gentle and trying to keep the mood light. He doesn’t want to make Damian uncomfortable. He continues the conversation about injuries going, regaling Damian with tales of some of their brothers’ funnier ones. For his part, Damian makes sounds of acknowledgement in the appropriate places, occasionally chiming in with ways in which _he_ would have avoided Drake’s mistakes had it been him there instead. Dick smiles genuinely, happy that Damian seems more relaxed. 

Maybe too relaxed. Although Dick can see a dusting of red across his face, Damian doesn’t hesitate this time to strip out of his pants and step into the tub. He sits a bit forward, expectantly leaving a space for Dick. 

Dick flushes and hurriedly strips out of his own clothes. Then, he climbs carefully into the tub, sliding in behind Damian. He makes sure to move slowly and controlled; the first time he’d given Damian a bath he’d accidentally aggravated his injuries with his carelessness. He didn’t want a repeat of that. 

He picks up a washcloth and starts to work on cleaning Damian’s body. Taking advantage of the space still between them he begins with Damian’s back, rubbing slow, gentle circles over it. Once he starts working Dick gets lost in his task, methodically going through the steps to clean his little brother. His earlier perverted thoughts don’t even enter his mind. After his back is finished he pulls Damian closer and reaches around to wash his front. That is when things go south. 

He’s running the cloth over Damian's chest when he hears a breathy gasp. For one moment Dick pauses, worried he may have hurt Damian again. The boy gives no other indications of pain though, so Dick brushes the cloth over his chest again. Another breathy exhale reaches his ears and that is when he realizes something. He had been brushing the cloth over Damian's nipple. That reaction had been… 

Dick flushes and tries to put it out of his mind. He doesn't need to think about the fact that his little brother apparently has sensitive nipples. Cute little rosy, sensitive nipples. No he shouldn't be thinking about that at all but he feels warmth building in his gut at the idea just the same. 

He gets back to his task, purposefully trying to avoid said nipples now, but it is really difficult to keep his thoughts pure when he knows what he might have to help Damian with next. 

"Grayson." 

Dick startles as Damian calls his name. The boy had kept fairly silent through this process the first few times. 

"Yeah Little D?" he asks back, trying to keep his voice neutral and not betray what he was thinking about up until now. 

"You may assist me again." 

It's permission, not a request, and a very _Damian_ way of asking for his help. And even though Dick knew this was coming - hell, he was the one who had offered it up in the first place - he still somehow isn't mentally prepared. He looks down and sees that Damian has indeed begun to harden under the water. With shame he feels his own cock begin to fill out as well. 

When he had made the offer yesterday he hadn't really been thinking. Not anything past how terrible it would be to be a teenager with raging hormones and be unable to jerk off. If he had known how seeing Damian like that would awaken his own repressed desires he would have… well, he still would have helped him, because Dick would do anything for his little brother. But maybe he would have made more of a conscious effort not to look at him while he did it. 

He feels Damian jerk away from him and realizes belatedly that he was still waiting for a reply. And Dick had just left him hanging. 

"It's okay, Damian. Of course I'll help you. Just relax okay?" he tells him softly as he pulls him back. Not too close though. Richard Junior does not need to be anywhere near this situation. 

He sets the washcloth aside and snakes his hand down under the water. He wraps his fingers around Damian's already stiff member and feels it twitch in his hand. His own cock twitches too, filling out more. 

Dick bites the inside of his cheek to try and distract himself and he begins slowly jerking Damian's cock. Keep it clinical. Dissociated. And _slow_ , so he'll have time to regain control of his own raging hormones. 

Damian moans at the touch, throwing his head back so it lands on Dick's shoulder. His ecstatic reactions now enter directly into Dick's ear. Dick's libido is pleased, and below the water he's more than half hard now. The rational part of his brain is panicking, trying to slow his motions to stifle Damian's reactions. 

Damian's not having it though, releasing a frustrated whine into his ear. 

"Grayson!" he calls out, "faster!" 

It seems that after getting over his initial embarrassment, Damian has now made enough peace with the situation to revert to his normal, demanding self. Unfortunately his demand does not suit with Dick's own pressing need to get control over his inappropriate stiffy. 

There's no time to dwell on it though. Sparked by Dick's inaction, Damian takes matters into his own hands - or own hips as it were, his hands were kind of out of commission- and begins thrusting up into Dick's grip. Dick gasps as the motion rocks them both, the slide of it pushing Damian dangerously close to his out of control erection. 

"Damian, wait-" 

Dick tries to stop the situation but it's fruitless because a second later Damian's hips slide back and they _make contact_. He hears Damian gasp, but the momentum of his thrust has his hips already twitching back up into Dick's hand. In the next moment he is back though, this time purposefully grinding his round backside into Dick's hardness. Cold mortification grips Dick's chest as he bites his lip to hold back a moan at the feeling. He releases Damian's cock and places his hands at either side of his hips, trying to pull him away. The teen resists him though, bracing his legs against the side of the tub and pushing back. The force of it slides them together again, this time Dick's cock being forcefully angled down by the motion. It slips between Damian's cheeks and they both gasp when the thick head of it brushes over Damian's hole. Dick's hands tighten around Damian's hips as he desperately tries to gain some control. 

"Grayson," Damian says breathily before Dick can think of what to do. He's pretty sure all the blood in his body is currently located on his now rock-hard cock, which has left none for brain functions, "You are.. aroused."

Leave it to Damian to call it out straight. He groans internally, hating himself for getting into this situation. He isn't sure what to make of the tone Damian used, doesn't know exactly where on the scale of revulsion at his older brother he lies, but Dick knows all he can do right now is to apologize and hope to somehow make things okay between them. 

"I'm sorry Damian," he tells him, still conscious of the way that he is pinned between the back of the bathtub and Damian's toned ass, "it was just a- a reaction. It doesn't mean-" 

"There is no need to apologize, Grayson," Damian cuts him off, "you are… helping me. It is only fair that you receive pleasure as well." 

Damian punctuates the statement with another wiggle of his hips, sliding Dick's length over his hole again and making them both cry out. 

"Damian, I shouldn't," Dick groans out as below the water Damian continues grinding back against him. 

"Grayson, please. Let me. It can-" Damian is cut off with a gasp as Dick's cockhead catches on his rim again, "i-it can be pleasurable for both of us." 

"Damian," Dick tried one more attempt at protest, but it was not very convincing since he was now meeting Damian's thrusts with rolls of his own hips, using the grip on Damian's hips to pull the teen back towards him. 

"Grayson please," Damian all but whimpered. 

Dick caves. As if he hadn't already given in. 

"Okay," he breathes out, "but let's- let's move." 

Damian moans out a contented agreement, and finally allows Dick to actually push him away. Dick holds back a whine at the loss of contact, but steels himself. It'll only be momentarily, and it'll be worth it; Dick is selfish, he wants to see Damian's face. 

After a bit of awkward tub Tetris he gets Damian turned around and laying on his back in the shallow water. He reaches over and grabs a towel to place behind his head to cushion it. The boy's face is a vision, flushed red and eyes that scream desire. A handsome blush is also spread down over his chest which is rising and falling rapidly, giving away his excitement. 

Once Damian is settled how Dick wants him, he crawls up, placing himself between the boy's legs. He notices Damian tense, his legs reflexively coming together. Worried thoughts flood Dick's mind. Maybe Damian didn't want this after all, was just doing it out of a sense of obligation. There is no way that Dick is going to force the kid into anything that he doesn't completely want to do. 

"Damian. It's okay. We don't have to do anything for me. I can just help you like yesterday," he tells him, trying to sound reassuring despite his aching cocks protest. 

Damian flushes even darker and looks off to the side as he responds. 

"No, it is fine. I want to. Just… it is my first time so. Be... gentle please." 

It takes Dick a moment to understand what Damian means, then he realizes… he thought Dick was going to fuck him. 

"Damian, no, I'm not going to… I wasn't planning to do _that_. That wouldn't be… appropriate right now." 

He can see Damian visibly relax at his words, and he feels himself relax as well, knowing that Damian has calmed down. 

"Here, let me show you what I was thinking," he tells him. 

Dick pushes on Damian's knees, and the boy compliantly spreads his legs. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight, even if most of the goodies are made blurry by the bath water. He can see the angry red outline of his cock pressed against his stomach though, and he slides forward to align himself with it. Using one arm to keep himself braced against the side of the bathtub (and to keep his weight up off of Damian's injuries) he moves his hips forward and presses their members together. Damian's eyes are half lidded as he moans at the contact, hips twitching up against him. Then Dick starts grinding his hips forward, rubbing their aching cocks together deliciously. 

"Grayson!" 

Hearing his name like that sets him off, and Dick starts moving more frantically. His hips move uncontrolled, each thrust causing him to moan at the sweet contact. Water splashes noisily around them, but he pays it no mind. The only sound he can focus on is Damian moaning his name, calling it out over and over like some kind of prayer. He thrusts his hips up to meet Dick's, and it makes the frantic grind even better, even if the splashes get a bit bigger. 

In this position Damian's face and chest are on full display, and he takes advantage of it. Reaching up he runs his thumb over one of the cute flushed nipples in front of him. Damian gasps and Dick gets bolder, pinching and twisting it, loving the reactions he can see clearly on Damian's face. He's very expressive and very _vocal_ , which just spurs Dick on more. He switches over to play with the other nipple, and finds it gets even better reactions. 

Damian's eyes are nearly shut now, and Dick can see little tears forming at the corners of them. In contrast, his mouth is wide open, a perfect circle letting out a constant string of gasps and moans. Just the sight is nearly enough to push Dick over the edge. 

"Grayson, I'm- ah" Damian tries to tell him but is cut off with a gasp as a particularly well aimed thrust spikes pleasure through him. Dick understands him though. Honestly he isn't sure how much longer he can last either, so he's glad Damian is close as well. 

"It's okay, I've got you," he reassures his partner. He leans down, intending to claim those pink lips with a reassuring kiss, but at the last second thinks better of it, placing them softly against his forehead instead. There's no need to bring romance into this; he has no idea what Damian thinks about the situation. He doesn't want to scare his little brother if this is just about getting off for him. 

Damian's hips beneath him start thrusting faster and Dick reaches down to finally bring them to their climax. He wraps his hand around both their cocks firmly, and begins jerking them together. Neither of them can hold back their moans at the fast friction as Dick works them towards completion, arm moving so frantically that it splashes water over the sides of the tub. It's only a moment later when Damian comes, squirting his release into the remaining bathwater. The sound that he makes as he comes is like music to Dick's ears, and he replays it in his mind as he works his own cock now, staring at the beautiful flushed boy below him. Soon his own release finds him and his cum arches out as a powerful orgasm rips through him, shooting out into the bathwater. A bit lands on Damian's exposed chest and Dick lets out a small helpless groan at the vision it makes. 

They're both still for a few moments, catching their breath as their ride out their post orgasmic glow. Dick is fascinated watching Damian's chest rise and fall, his cum still splattered there. His eyes are closed now, head tipped back as he takes in deep breaths. It's almost enough for Dick to want to go a second round. 

He's supposed to be taking care of Damian though, and the boy looks tired. He stubbornly ignores the voice in the back of his head that questions whether or not this was the right way to "take care of" him. 

Reality crashing back in around him, he leans over and grabs the abandoned washcloth. With a small amount of shameful regret he wipes the cum off of Damian's tanned skin. The boy startles a bit at the touch and opens his eyes finally. 

Another moment of silence hangs between them and then Damian finally speaks. 

"Thank you Grayson," he says quietly. His sincere eyes meet Dick's own and something about his gaze is too intense that it makes him look away. 

"It's fine Damian," he says awkwardly, busying himself with wringing out the washcloth and folding it, actions which are completely unnecessary, "let's get you to bed now, okay?" 

He plasters on a smile and looks back at Damian finally. Something flashes through the boy's eyes but Dick can't tell what. 

They get dried off and prepare Damian for bed in relative silence. Dick makes a quip here and there, but somehow they seem to fall flat. Damian seems lost in contemplation and Dick hopes that he isn't regretting what just happened. 

It isn't until he has finally tucked Damian into bed, placing his usual goodnight kiss on his forehead, that the teen finally speaks.

"Grayson would you… stay with me?" he asks, voice hesitant. 

Dick's chest loosens and he's filled with relief. Damian isn't upset after all. Wants Dick to stay even. And Dick is happy to oblige. 

"Of course," he tells him, placing another sweet kiss on his forehead before moving around to the other side of the bed and climbing in. 

The urge to cuddle is strong - he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around his baby brother and hold him tightly - but he's conscious of Damian's injuries and restrains himself. Instead he reaches out one arm, slides it protectively across Damian's belly, and nuzzles his face in the pillow near Damian's head. 

"Goodnight Little D." 

"Goodnight Grayson." 


	6. Chapter 6

Damian never used to have trouble sleeping. Nightly patrol wore him out enough that he would practically pass out the moment he hit his bed. Since his injury however, he has slept in fits and starts, always restless with no way to let off energy. He always wakes up early of his own accord, resigned to another miserable day and waiting to see who will bring him breakfast. 

That's why today, it takes him by surprise when he's startled awake by a knock at the door. He tiredly mumbles "come in" as he yawns and slowly pulls his brain into consciousness. 

When he attempts to sit up however, he finds himself pinned down. Suddenly more awake, he turns to his left to see Grayson still there, snoring peacefully. Damian panics. There's no way for him to move or hide, and the door to his bedroom is already creaking open. 

"Yo Damian, you up? Dickie's MIA so Bruce sent me to- woah."

A wave of ice washes over Damian's body as Jason Todd steps into his room, breakfast tray in hand. He has seen them. There's no mistaking it. Neither of them had bothered putting a shirt on last night after the bath, something he regrets now because the blanket is bunched up down around their waists, making that fact very apparent. Damian swallows, trying not to panic, but he can already feel his heart rate rising. This is not something he was yet ready for anyone to be privy to. He isn't even completely sure what  _ this _ is yet. He meets Todd's gaze, challenging, daring the older bat to say something. After a moment of intense standoff though, Todd just breaks out laughing. 

"Oh ho ho, so this is where Dickie's been. And here we were all worried about him. Well, I'll just leave this here. I'm sure he'll be happy to help you when he gets up." 

Todd sets the tray down near the door. Beside him Grayson mumbles in his sleep, but does not wake up to come to Damian's rescue. Damian glares across the room.

"Todd. If you-" 

"You kids have fun now. Be safe!" Todd interrupts him, tossing a wink in his direction. Damian's face goes hot as mortification and fury mix, but before he can retaliate Todd is already slipping out the door with a playful wave, shutting it purposefully behind him with a loud click. 

The noise seems to finally rouse Grayson from his slumber, as Damian can feel the older man stretching beside him. His hand flexes over the place where it's resting on Damian's hip, sending a little shiver through him. 

He turns his head to the side and sees Grayson sleepily blinking awake. Finally his eyes fully open, blue diamonds piercing into Damian's soul. 

"Morning Little D," he yawns, and Damian tenses as he feels Grayson purposefully tighten the grip on his hip this time, wiggling on the bed to snuggle closer to Damian, pressing up against the length of his side. 

Damian mentally chastises himself for reacting to the contact. After last night he has no reason to feel embarrassed. All the same, he can't help flushing at the feel of Grayson's body so close to his. 

"What was that?" Grayson asks through another yawn. Damian freezes for a moment, thinking Grayson had caught on to his reaction to his touch, but suddenly realizes what he was actually referring to. 

"It was just Todd," he tells him, as if being discovered half dressed in bed with his older brother hadn't terrified him, "he brought breakfast." 

"That was nice of him." 

Damian balks.  _ That was nice of him? _ Was that really Grayson's only reaction to being found together? An idea crosses his mind then, one which makes him feel even colder than when Todd had entered the room. 

What if Grayson wasn't reacting because to him this was nothing? Sure, he had also gotten off during their encounter last evening, but perhaps to him that was just a bonus point to assisting Damian. After all, Grayson hadn't even kissed him. Even though he'd been waiting for it. And it is no secret that Grayson is not a stranger to sexual liaisons. There was no telling what he thought about Damian now. 

His stomach knots and he loses any interest in the breakfast, but Grayson is already up and trotting across the room to receive the tray. Damian sits up in the bed and flushes when he sees how low Grayson's pajama bottoms are laying on his hips. 

The breakfast goes as usual, Grayson patiently helping him to eat and making cheery conversation. It all just leaves Damian feeling more confused. He debates asking Grayson, demanding an answer but… he's worried. If Grayson finds out Damian has romantic feelings for him, he may cut things off between them for fear of hurting Damian. And that is the absolute last thing he wants. In the end he finishes his breakfast in silence, even as his heart roars. 

Later that day he tracks down Todd. He had surprisingly spent the day hanging around the manor, which Damian suspects may have something to do with him. He finds him holed up in the library, some flowery novel that somehow passes as "classic literature" in this country in hand, seated next to Drake who is clearly doing case-related research based on the large stacks of books towering on the desk around him. Neither look up from their reading as he enters the room. 

"Todd," he calls, trying to sound authoritative, "we need to talk." 

"Then talk," his poor excuse for an older brother responds without taking his eyes off the pages in front of him. 

"Privately," Damian tells him firmly. He's in no mood. 

Todd finally looks up from his book, and Damian's stomach feels heavy when he sees the shit eating grin on his older brother's face. This does not bode well. He glances over at Tim, wondering if Todd has told him anything or not. 

He does finally deem to cooperate though, bookmarking his spot and following Damian out into the hall. As soon as the door to the library snaps closed, Damian starts the interrogation. 

"Did you tell anyone?" he growls out low so as not to be overhead. 

"Tell anyone what?" Todd asks him, but that stupid grin tells Damian that he knows  _ exactly _ what he is referring to. 

"You know what." 

"No, I don't. Enlighten me." 

Damian sorely misses his katana. He's sure that Todd would be much less cheeky with a blade at his throat. 

"About Grayson and I," he grinds out through his teeth, forced into playing Todd's game. 

"Don't worry kid, I didn't tell anyone. It's not mine to tell." 

Relief flows through him. For all of Todd's faults at least he is honorable. 

"For what it's worth though, you guys make a cute couple. Can't wait for the wedding." 

He punctuates the statement with a laugh and by reaching up to ruffle Damian's hair. Damian pulls away from his hand, all respect he'd just gained for his older brother lost again. He's now going to be stuck looking like an unkempt fool until he can find someone who isn't one of his idiot older brothers to help him fix the mess Todd has caused on his head. 

Huffing angrily he turns and stomps off down the hallway, the sound of Todd making kisses noises echoing behind him. 

Despite the turmoil and confusion that have been swimming around in his head all day, there is one thing that he is absolutely certain of. Namely, that, whatever emotions are or are not involved aside, he needs a repeat of last night. It has been a struggle all day not to let himself drift back to the memory of Grayson on top of him, his thrusting hips sending waves of pleasure through Damian's body as their cocks rubbed together. More than once he had to excuse himself from the room and wait by himself until he could calm down and his penis would soften again. He had never felt so frustrated with being unable to touch himself, but he knew it would be worth the wait to enjoy Grayson's company again tonight. 

He tried not to show how excited he was when they finally made their way up to the bedroom that evening, but he couldn't help himself. No sooner had Grayson closed the bedroom door than he was practically begging for it. 

"Grayson, tonight you may assist me again. I mean, we can assist each other. That is, what we did yesterday-" 

Grayson shushed him with a finger to his lip and Damian was secretly grateful for it; what had sounded cool and confident in his head had turned into a stuttering mess. 

"I've got you Little D, don't worry." 

His smile cuts straight through Damian's heart. Honestly Damian is not a fan of smiling, he doesn't usually smile unless it's to taunt his enemies, but on Grayson's face the gesture is so sincere and sits perfectly. It's almost enough to make Damian return a smile of his own. Almost. 

"Let's start then," he replies instead. His body has been humming with pent-up tension all day and he's anxious to feel Grayson's touch again. He heads towards the bathroom, but Grayson blocks his path, placing a gentle hand on Damian's hip to stop him. 

"I was thinking Damian… maybe we should do things in here tonight? It might be easier. We kinda made a mess yesterday." 

Damian remembers the verifiable flood that had been their bathroom floor last night. There had been a lot of splashing.

"I suppose that is sensible," he says, turning to eye the bed warily. This is new territory. But he will be compliant with Grayson's wishes. 

Grayson is doing this to take care of him after all. 

The encounter starts a little uncomfortably. Before there had been a purpose to their disrobing, a bath to take. Now there was still a purpose, but it was much more nefarious. Damian stood still, blushing, as Grayson gently disrobed him. He hates his body's reaction; he should be beyond the point of being embarrassed by nudity. 

By the time he's undressed he's already hard, cock at attention against his stomach. He catches Grayson staring at it and feels a mixture of embarrassment and arousal course through him, making him hot. His cock twitches. 

"You're beautiful Dami," Grayson tells him, now looking up into his eyes. Somehow that's the most embarrassing part of the evening so far. He is unsure how to respond so mumbles out a small thank you. 

Grayson softly runs his hands up and down Damian's sides, thumbs pausing at his hips to rub gentle circles there. He seems to be contemplating what to do next. Damian knows what his next action needs to be though. 

"Grayson, you too. I want to see you." 

Grayson looks surprised, like he hadn't been thinking anything of himself, but his expression quickly transforms into a small smile and he tells him "sure" while beginning to strip. Damian has seen him naked before, had been pressed against his nude body last night, but this is the first time that he has properly been allowed to  _ look _ and appreciate it with more than stolen glances. 

His body is a work of art, every ounce of him lithe muscle. Damian's eyes are drawn to his toned chest, riddled with scars. They just make him more gorgeous to Damian, proof of his fortitude and valor in battle. Each one tells a story of his victory. 

Eventually his eyes drift lower, over his well defined abdominals and to a dark strip of hair that leads to the place Damian has often fantasized about. His penis is nestled in a patch of well trimmed hair, starting to fill out but still hanging low. Grayson is what Damian has crudely heard Todd refer to as a "show-er"; even when he's not fully erect his penis is still large, even more so than Damian's own. The warmth in his gut grows as he drinks in the sight of it, desperately wishing he could take it in his hands and feel it's weight. 

"Um, should we get started?"

Despite the fact that he had been staring at him, Damian has somehow forgotten that Grayson was present beyond his body. Just how long had he been staring? He flushes and looks up at him. Somehow Grayson looks a bit flushed as well. 

"Yes, let's begin," he replies, trying to sound confident and not out of his element. 

"I want to try something," Grayson tells him, guiding him back towards the bed, "is it okay?" 

"Yes," Damian responds quickly. He'll do anything Grayson asks of him. Especially if it is going to involve pleasure for either of them. 

Grayson positions him on the bed, so he is laying on his back with his legs off the edge, feet on the floor. He stands there looking at him for a moment as if considering the position, then puts some pillows behind Damian's head and shoulders, propping him up a bit. Once Grayson seems satisfied with the position he hesitates, as if unsure how to proceed. His eyes flick up to Damian's face for a moment, not quite meeting his eyes, but rather gazing somewhere around his lips. He gives his head a small shake, as if clearing something from his mind then finally seems to decide on an action. He leans over Damian and runs his hands over his sides a few times, teasingly. Damian's cock is still hard against his stomach, anxious anticipation humming under his skin, but Grayson doesn't touch it yet. Instead he reaches up over the place where Damian's arm is still slung to his chest, and grabs at a nipple. Damian gasps and his feet press against the floor as he tries to push up into the sensation. Grayson's other hand finds his other nipple and soon he's working them both at the same time, fingers twisting and pinching. Damian bites his lip, trying to keep his noise in as Grayson embarrassingly takes him apart with just a few twitches of his fingers. He's more exposed now too; there's no bathwater to hide behind. Grayson can see everything, including the large drip of precum which has now formed at his cockslit from his touches. 

Just when he thinks the nipple torture is over (though it was a torture which he greatly enjoyed), Grayson comes back, replacing his fingers with his  _ mouth _ , and Damian feels his muscles tense in pleasure as hot warmth encompasses his sensitive bud. Grayson laps at it with his tongue and Damian forgets to breathe, can't think of anything except that mouth and the hot arousal coursing through him. When he finally pulls away, Damian's chest feels cold and he can't help the needy whine that escapes him, demanding more. 

"Feel good Little D?" Grayson asks him, smiling proudly. He can see saliva trailing down his chin from his enthusiastic ministrations. 

He just nods, at a loss for words again. He sees Grayson glance down then, eyes meeting Damian's dripping erection. Before he has a chance to feel any further embarrassment Grayson is wrapping his fingers around it and the only thing Damian can feel is "yes." 

He begins stroking Damian's cock slowly up and down, rubbing his thumb against the slit and smearing the precum around. Damian whines when he finally let's go of it to shift positions.

Placing a hand on each of Damian's knees, he spreads his legs wide, pushing them out until there's enough room for him to drop to his own knees there. Once he's situated he begins pressing little kisses to Damian's inner thighs and he gasps. He's sensitive there, another place where he isn't used to being touched. Greater than the touch though is the implication of this position, of the proximity of Grayson's mouth to areas more interesting than his thighs. He moans again just at the thought of what else Grayson might soon do with his mouth. 

It's not long before his suspicions regarding Grayson's intentions are confirmed. After a few more loving nips at his thighs Grayson kisses his way upwards, and suddenly without warning Damian feels the stroke of a tongue up the underside of his cock. 

His toes curl into the carpet and he lets out a long groan at the hot pleasure that courses through his body. He has never felt a sensation like this before but all he knows is that he needs more now. Thankfully Grayson understands that need because he continues to lick wet warm streaks up his cock, leaving trails of saliva behind. On the next stroke he pauses at the top and digs his tongue into Damian's cockslit, cleaning out the precum gathered there. Damian cries out, too hot and too sensitive, coming undone at Grayson's touch. 

Just when he thinks he can't take anymore, Grayson engulfs him, swallowing his whole cock into his mouth. Damian feels tears at the corners of his eyes and he moans. He can't take his eyes off Grayson as he bobs his head around his cock, sucking and licking at it. He's never felt such pleasure, so intense it blocks out all else. Everything is amplified by the vision Grayson makes with his mouth stretched wide around Damian. Each time he pulls up Damian can see the drag of his lips and the wet trails of saliva left behind on his shaft. The warm heat around his cock is maddening and he curses his injuries again, desiring to tangle his fingers in Grayson's hair now. Instead he just lays back and accepts the pleasure, crying out his name. 

The feeling is overwhelming, but his body still wants more, demanding release. He thrusts his hips up, chasing more of the warm touch, and Grayson mercifully allows him into his throat, swallowing around him. 

That's all it takes and Damian is coming, no time to even give out a warning, just moaning and pressing his non-slung arm against the back of Grayson's head, wordlessly begging him not to stop or pull away. 

Thankfully Grayson is compliant and keeps him fully sheathed in his mouth until he's finished coming. Only when Damian is fully spent does he pull away, giving a few laps at his cockslit to clean the remaining cum there. Damian shivers. 

"Was that good Dami?" he asks him, sounding a bit breathless. Damian feels both guilty and aroused when he realizes the reason for that is because he'd just been choking around Damian's cock. 

"It was excellent Grayson," Damian tells him, even though he doesn't think the words come anywhere near to describing what he just felt. 

"I'm glad," Grayson smiles at him, "let's get you settled into bed then." 

He gets up off the floor, brushing off his knees as he stands, and Damian can't help but notice that Grayson is now fully erect. 

"What about you?" he asks. 

Grayson looks up at him, surprised. 

"What about me?"

"Yes. You have not finished."

Grayson looks away then, and his expression almost looks ashamed, although Damian can't understand why. 

"Damian, you don't have to worry about me-" he starts. 

"Nonsense. It would be selfish for me not to reciprocate after you… took care of me so satisfactorily. You may… use my mouth, if you'd like." 

Damian opens his mouth wide in invitation. Little shivers of nervousness run through him, but he tries to keep calm. Grayson had used his mouth on him after all, and fair was fair. He has never done such an act before though, and he is unsure if he will be able to perform to Grayson's liking. He tries to remember everything Grayson had done to him and work out how to replicate it. 

"Damian, no…" is Grayson's reply. He props himself on the bed next to him and puts a finger under Damian's chin, pushing on it until his mouth clicks shut. Grayson must read the confusion on his face because he quickly continues. 

"We shouldn't do that right now. Not with your injuries and well… well, anyways, we just can't now." 

Damian supposes he may be right about it's potential to aggravate his injuries, but he would be willing to risk it for Grayson's sake. Certainly there must be something he can do for him. 

"Grayson, please, you must let me do something." 

"Okay, you can. Just stay here next to me Damian, that's enough for now." 

Damian just nods in agreement as he sees Grayson reach down and take himself in hand. He reaches out with his other to grope at Damian. He flushes but tries to keep still as he feels Grayson's touch roaming over his abs and hips before skating lower and squeezing his buttocks. 

The horrible feeling of uselessness that has been plaguing his mind since his injuries suddenly creeps back again, sneering at him. He should be the one touching Grayson now, bringing him pleasure. Not idly sitting by as his partner jerks himself to completion next to him. How is he supposed to succeed as a lover like this? 

His doubts are ebbed minutes later, after Grayson finally comes into his hand and across the sheets, and he grins up Damian. 

"Thank you, Damian. That was nice." 

He doesn't seem bothered at all by Damian's lack of participation. Instead he leans in closer, still content in his afterglow, and pushes their foreheads together. 

Their eyes meet and Damian can feel his breath across his face. He swallows nervously, hyper conscious of how close together their lips are. Only bare millimeters separate them. Was Grayson going to finally kiss him? Should he take the initiative and break the distance himself? 

Before he can decide on a plan of action though, Grayson is pulling away and getting up off the bed. Damian's side feels cold where Dick had been pressed against him before. 

"Well, I guess it's bedtime. Yeah. Let me just grab a washcloth and then I'll help you. I've gotta be heading back to Blüdhaven pretty soon too, Nightwing stuff, you know." 

Rambling trailing off Grayson disappears into the bathroom, leaving a sated yet sadly confused Damian waiting quietly on the bed for his return. 


	7. Chapter 7

Grayson has only spent the night with him once, but already Damian feels the emptiness of the bed weighing on him when he wakes up alone. Having Grayson around has been the one thing making this horrible house arrest bearable. Without him Damian can already feel the walls of his room closing in around him again. 

Grayson is Nightwing though, and just because Robin is benched doesn't mean that the other vigilante could skirt his responsibilities. No matter how much Damian selfishly wished for him around. 

With a sigh he curls to sit up. Grayson won't be bringing him breakfast today, and the vast expanses of his bed feel too vacant, seeming to grow wider the longer Damian lays there in solitude. He wiggles out of bed and makes his way over to the bathroom, determined to start his day and get out of this room. 

With now-practiced ease Damian shimmies out of his sleep pants and sits down in the toilet, pressing on his penis with the edge of his broken left hand to keep the stream aimed down. As he relieves himself his eyes stray to the bathtub and his mind strays to memories of Grayson helping to  _ relieve  _ him in another way. Damian is still unsure of Grayson's true motives. Does he feel the same way Damian does, or is he simply taking his duties as caretaker very seriously? Last night he had used his mouth on Damian. (The memory of it makes his penis twitch and he flushes and clamps down on it harder to keep it aimed properly. He had found out his first night in casts that trying to mop urine off the floor holding a towel with your feet was neither easy nor enjoyable.) Certainly fellatio was not an act Grayson would perform on just anyone. It required an amount of attention and intimacy which Damian had never experienced before. The way his tongue had tenderly explored every inch of Damian's hardness, and the way he had taken Damian so deeply inside him… that had to mean more. 

But… he hadn't kissed him. And therein lay Damian's confusion. 

Giving his penis a little shake to remove the last drips, Damian gets up from the toilet. He's already half hard now from his memories of Grayson's mouth and he takes a deep breath to try and steady himself. Leaning down he catches his pants' waistband with his splinted left hand and drags them back up over his hips. There are some tasks, such as this, that he's now completely used to despite his injury. There are other tasks however, which still allude his capabilities.

He stares angrily at his toothbrush as if that will somehow get it into his mouth. Here Grayson's absence is palpable. Yesterday Damian had sat on the edge of the counter as Grayson had cupped his open jaw in his hand and brushed gentle minty circles over Damian's teeth. It had become almost routine by now, and Damian no longer resisted Grayson's help. In fact, he had struggled not to squirm under the attention. 

But today Grayson isn't here and now Damian is left completely useless again. 

At least Damian will have a legitimate excuse to summon Grayson back to the manor. One besides his feelings or physical desire. 

Damian contemplates that more as he rinses his hand and attempts to splash water on his face in some semblance of hygiene. Until now he and Grayson have advanced their physical relationship each night. Damian may be a virgin, but he knows what comes next (Prior to his injury he spent many nights with two fingers deep in his ass and Grayson's name upon his lips). While he has become accustomed to Grayson’s touch, something about that final step feels different. Weightier. Like such an act would be surrendering himself to his partner completely.

Damian lifts his face from the sink, meeting his own eyes in the mirror as water drips off him. While he typically acts tough and uncaring, Damian can't hide the truth from his own self. If he were to give his first time to Grayson only to find out the older man had no feelings for him… it would devastate him. And his relationship with Grayson would be irreparably damaged. 

Pressing his face into a towel he exhales deeply. This is too heavy to be contemplating so early in the morning, and it wouldn't do to be revealing so much emotion in front of Drake or father. Steeling himself and putting on a neutral face he exits the bathroom and traipses through the confining bedroom to the door. He's going to eat breakfast in the dining room for once. 

"Master Damian. I was just about to bring a tray up to you," a warm familiar voice greets him as soon as he enters the dining room. 

"Pennyworth." Damian decides he can spare a smile for the old butler. "I'm glad to see you are well again." 

"Yes. I'm happy to report a clean bill of health. Your father has finally deemed me fit to return to my duties." 

The last line is dripping with sarcasm and Damian and Alfred share a knowing look. When it comes to taking care of health his father is extremely strict on everyone, except for himself. 

"Have father and Drake already left?" Damian asks, noticing the empty coffee mugs and plates that Alfred is collecting from the dining table. 

"Yes, something about an early board meeting." 

Damian holds back a sigh. Although Drake wouldn't be his first choice of company usually, he was still company at least. The large manor could get quite boring when most of Damian's usual activities were out of the question. He stares out the large window across the manor grounds and contemplates what he will do with his day. And how he will keep his mind off from last night and Grayson. 

"I hope you won't mind if I join you," Alfred says, startling Damian out of his thoughts. He could be as stealthy as Batman at times, moving about the manor on quiet feet. 

Damian just nods as the butler-come-grandfather sets two trays down in front of them. When he views the meal he practically wilts in relief. Alfred Pennyworth truly thinks of everything. The breakfast contains a tray of chopped fruit, each piece with it's own toothpick already speared which will be easy for Damian to pick up even with his hand injuries. Beside that is a thick smoothie with a wide straw sticking up out of it. No hands required. 

And here Damian had been subjected to eating dinosaur oatmeal from a spoon held out to him by Grayson like a mother feeding a new toddler, and fruit slices direct from Grayson's own fingers like he was some kind of pet. He digs into the meal with renewed vigor as Alfred thoughtfully sips a tea cup beside him.

"I heard it won't be too long until you're back in the game as well," Alfred tells him between sips. When Damian pauses his eating to give him a quizzical look the butler continues. "Master Bruce told me this morning that you should be getting those finger splints off later this week. Dr. Thompkins will be coming by on Friday morning for your checkup."

Damian pauses his meal to examine his left hand. He gives the fingers an experimental wiggle. They had been hurting much less than before. Finding out that he's healing should be exciting, but for some reason the news triggers something icy in his gut. 

They pass the remainder of the meal making light conversation, both commiserating over the pain of being on bed rest, but the whole time Damian can't shake the strange feeling of dread inside him.

After breakfast Damian goes for a walk around the Manor grounds with Titus. The well-trained dog heels at his side as Damian walks as if a zombie, lost in contemplation. He's finally realized why Alfred's earlier news had upset him. 

Once Damian is healed Grayson will have no reason to be around him anymore.

There will be no need for him to travel out to the manor to assist Damian, or for him to touch him or to sleep in bed next to him. If Damian can take care of himself then everything will go back to the way things were. Grayson will return to being a brother and a mentor and any progress they have made in their relationship will be lost. Damian will lose Grayson. 

In his chest his heart feels as if someone had grabbed a hold of it and is squeezing it tight. Distracted as he is he doesn't even notice Jason preparing his motorcycle in front of the garage as Damian heads back towards the manor. 

"Hey short-stuff. Why the long face?" 

Damian doesn't jump, because he's a Bat, but his muscles do tense minutely in surprise. He turns to face Todd with a look of annoyance, both from the surprise and the use of the nickname of which Damian is not fond. It's only mildly more palatable than "demon-brat" but as far as upgrades go it's still very unsatisfactory. He opens his mouth, a nasty retort on his lips, when he stops. 

Todd is the only one who has an inkling of awareness of the situation between Grayson and himself. Perhaps he could be a valuable source of guidance, loath as Damian is to confide in him. 

Instead of a scathing insult meant to cut Todd down as much as possible Damian tells him the truth. Or bits of it. Mostly he shares his worries about Grayson leaving him after his injuries heal, whilst omitting any and all mentions of how their relationship actually came to be or any of their more  _ private _ moments. 

When he's finished he glares up at Todd, daring him to make fun of him. He's a bit taken aback when Todd actually  _ does _ laugh though. 

"You really are an idiot kid!" 

Damian scoffs in response and turns to head into the manor. He should have known better than to consult Todd. Before he can take a step however, he's being grabbed by his good shoulder and turned back around. 

"Hey, hold on, don't get all huffy, I didn't mean it like that. I just mean that, from what you've said and what I've seen, it's pretty obvious he's into you too. Dick may be a big flirt but he's not the type to lead someone on willingly. Especially not if it's someone he cares about. Anyways, it doesn't sound like you've exactly been forthcoming with your feelings either right? I can't believe  _ I'm _ the one saying this but, maybe a good old conversation would be the right step to clear things up." 

Damian's heart flutters and with annoyance he feels his face heat as well. Could Todd be right? He was an impartial observer after all. Perhaps Grayson truly does reciprocate his feelings. 

There is only one way to know the truth. 


End file.
